Tempted
by ArizonaSivy
Summary: Simba and Scar have a little friendly talk, during which with the help of a dark force the latter remembers how he really hates the injustice in his life and all those responsible for it.


**AN: Another one about Scar… So he's kind of like Anders Breivik and all the other cold-blooded killers without a conscience. You look at them and ask yourself- how could they be like that? And what was the cause? Here I tried to answer that, at least when it comes to Scar.**

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_Crunch, crunch, crunch…_

The crunching sound that came from beyond the tall grass was getting louder and louder.

As he was zealously trying to put his stalking skills to use, Simba repeated Mufasa's pointers in his head, being as careful as he could to follow every bit of the lesson.

_Stay low. Try to hold your breath. Place your paws carefully on the ground. And most of all- don't let your impatience get the best of you!_

Right, dad. That usually worked with Zazu, but what about something that actually knows what's going on around him? – thought the cub. Meter after meter, his target was becoming more visible among the thicket. A dark mountain of flesh for just a child like himself…

_Crunch, crunch. Gulp._

Ha! He must be so preoccupied with his breakfast that he can't possibly sense my presence- Simba encouraged himself inwardly, baring his little needle-like fangs in a cheeky grin. - Only a few more steps…

_Crunch, crunch… RRRAAWWWRRR!_

Scar almost choke with the piece of meat he was joyfully chewing, spitting a bone out of his mouth as the feeling of pain suddenly pierced him like a dagger from behind. Afterwards Simba could hear probably the worst wave of cursing that would ever reach his ears. But he did not pay any attention. That was because the whole world turned around for him a few times in just a flash, stunning him, and only after a while did he find himself hanging in mid-air, dangling at the end of his uncle's tail, still strongly attached to it with his teeth.

Scar turned his head around angrily, trying to take a look at whatever on earth had the audacity to bite his tail like that. When Simba saw his uncle's face, smeared with blood from his recently interrupted meal, shivers went down his little spine. He tried to smile innocently under the punishing glare of a venomous-green, scar-incrusted eye, but he was starting to feel that this time he actually went over the edge.

-"_Let go._"

The cub heard the raw order, but was at first too scared to actually understand it. A moment later he realized that his fangs were still sunken deep in Scar's flesh, and that in this situation it would be best for him to stop hurting his uncle. He loosened his jaws at once, and then felt the consequences of his little ambush, momentarily hitting the hard ground of the savanna with his butt.

After a minute, when the pain eased, the cub decided to open his eyes. Surprisingly, Scar wasn't paying attention to him anymore.

_Crunch, crunch, crunch…_

Gazing at the lion, who was now once more interested in nothing but the tasty carcass before him, Simba felt bad for what he had done. He liked his uncle even though he was a little strange and alienated, and would often visit him when he was bored with playing with all the other lions from his pride. Many of them were usually busy, unlike Scar, and even though he often preferred not to spend too much time with his nephew, Simba still didn't want him to take offence for just one small prank.

-"Uncle Scar…" – he cried out with the most doleful of voices. –"Y-yo're not mad at me… are you?"

_Crunch, crunch… Hmfff…_

Ohhh why doesn't he just go away? – Scar said to himself in his thoughts. – Doesn't that attention-seeking whelp have _anyone_ more he could possibly bother right now? His mother, for instance? Well of course, _she_ must be tanning her belly in the sun right now, lazing after the hunt with the rest of the females… But what about Mufasa? Zazu? That little spawn of Sarafina? _Whoever_ in this cursed kingdom?

Simba flinched seeing his uncle lifting his head from the meat in order to speak to him, but then he noticed that he didn't seem angry anymore. His face rather expressed sadness and concern.

-"No Simba, I'm not mad" – he said softly, making a few steps to stand in front of him. – "I'm only worried. Because you know that you took me by surprise there, and that I had no idea about the fact that it was only my little nephew trying to have some fun, not some vicious lion-eating beast taking a bite out of your old uncle's body."

Scar said this staring straight into Simba's eyes, observing with inner delight how his manner of emphasizing every word to dramatize the whole discourse made the naive cub open his mouth in amazement.

-"As I said- I'm not mad at you. But do understand that I could have accidentally _killed_ you!"

When Simba heard the last words, he frowned from fear and remorse.

Ha, brilliant- the old lion commended his own acting skills to himself once again. – Maybe this will take him off my back for a few days…

-"Please, uncle! I'm sorry, please don't tell anything to dad! I-it won't happen again, I promise!" – Scar wasn't very content to find the cub nuzzling at his paw. His whining voice made his ears sore.

Damn, I'd like to bite his tail off myself right now… What will it take to get rid of him? Alright, then. If he chooses to act like a baby- then I'll just treat him like one.

-"Aw, there-there, Simba…" – he moaned with fake compassion, hugging the cub with his other paw and pressing him tightly against himself. – "No-one is going to find out, I promise."

Simba raised his little hazel eyes towards him.

-"R-really?" – he smiled. –"Thanks!"

Then he sprung out and started running around laughing, circling his uncle, trying to make him chase or at least follow him with his sight. But Scar just sighed, covering his face with a paw.

Oh, it's like a rhino trying to chase a fly away- he thought. – Hyperactive little rat…

And then, with his eyes still covered, Scar realized that the sounds of Simba's childish laughter suddenly started to silence down, becoming more and more distant until it faded away completely. As a matter of fact, everything around became strangely quiet. Putting his paw away from his face, the lion saw that there was nothing more around him than an endless field of dry grass, dancing silently to the delicate wind. Was it some kind of a dream? – he wondered it astonishment, seeing how misty and lifeless the world has become in just a second. After a moment of turning his head in astonishment, Scar sensed that he wasn't alone in this dreamy realm. From the cloudy and vague distance, there came a shadowy figure. Being thoroughly shapeless and unrecognizable, still it had some features that hinted that it was a lion. Or at least the _spirit_ of a lion.

-"What madness is this?" – Scar growled from behind ground teeth, moving away from the mysterious figure, desperately trying to hide his fear. But the shadow just stood before him, filling him with an obnoxious feeling of being carefully observed by a pair of invisible eyes.

-"_Hm-hm-hm…_" – laughed the spirit with a deep, echoing voice that Scar felt in his mind more than he heard. – "_I have been watching you, Scar. You have great potential…_"

The lion felt fear and anger mixing inside him. If that _thing_ could talk, it had to be some living being. But why did it talk to him?

-"Who are you?" – he shouted with warning, deciding finally that he rather wait before attacking.

-"_Hm-hm-hm… You have heard stories about your great lion ancestors, haven't you? Well then, I guess you can consider me… a 'friend from the past'. A dark star from your own cloudy sky…"_

-"I have never believed in such nonsense!"

-"_I know that. It doesn't matter though, you can call me whatever you want. All that's important is that you listen._"

The dark spirit moved a little closer, sending shivers down Scar's spine. It revealed some of it's foggy features, and they did turn out to be the ones of a lion. A lion much similar to himself.

-"What do you… want from me?" – Scar uttered with a frown, feeling totally disoriented. Hearing that, the dark shape seamed to have smiled.

-"_And what do you want yourself? Is it not to be… the king of Pride Rock?_"

-"Yes…"

-"_Well you are right in that! I've been observing this land for some time now and I'm sure that you would be a far better ruler than your brother!_"

Scar smiled internally. Somehow, the spirit did not look very frightening anymore. It even started to feel more familiar, close to him both in terms of blood and ways of thinking. Who knows, maybe the old legends were true and that _was_ some long-dead relative of his? But he was still very careful in showing his enthusiasm.

-"And what makes you think that?" – he asked suspiciously.

-"_What? Are you blind? You are far more clever than to not understand!_" – as it spoke, the shadowy figure's words became filled with more and more passion, and anger along with that. But Scar wasn't afraid of it anymore. – "_For generations these lands were under the reign of pathetic fools and weak caricatures of what lions truly are! Was it not their way of thinking that made your father choose Mufasa to be his heir rather than you? Doesn't it prove something to you? And now your brother is king, his annoying little whelp is heir to the throne, while you yourself are left aside like a useless parasite! How is that just? How can you even live with it, Scar? Not taking any actions at all?_"

Scar closed his eyes. Many visions appeared in his thoughts- visions of his father when he was favoring Mufasa, visions of his brother boasting over who he was going to become… All the pain, all the anger of the moments in his life he hated most, like when Mufasa became king or when Simba was born, returned in a great, engulfing wave. He wanted them gone, out of his life forever. He wanted to end the humiliation. He remembered all his attempts to somehow change his pitiful situation. And how he would fail every time, left with nothing but scars…

-"I would give _everything_ to erase my brother from the world…" – he growled, feeling as fury possessed him. – "So many times I've tried to think of a way… But with time I grew tired of even thinking about it, accepting the thought that there was really nothing I could do… especially when Simba was born…"

The evil shadow stood undisturbed, letting the lion enter the darkest areas of his soul. Sensing Scar's disappointment in himself and how the barrier of owning a conscience enraged him, he knew that this was a good moment to shatter that helplessness.

-"_And what is the problem, Scar?_" – whispered the shadow with something that could almost be considered as compassion. – "_You know the plans you used to construe in your mind. You even befriended those hyena idiots that would in other conditions just be disgusting beasts to you. So why didn't you act? What made you hesitate?"_

The dark spirit observed an inner fight that Scar was yet again fighting with himself.

-"It was… _Simba…_" – he mumbled, grinding his jaws. – "With his birth I became… powerless. I _wanted_ to kill that fool who is my brother, I _wanted_ to make Sarabi suffer for rejecting me once! But the whelp… He's so precious to them…"

Scar lifted his head, noticing the dark shape making a few steps towards him, afterwards leaning over to whisper into his ear.

-"_And what does that change?_"

The lion looked at his nightmarish interlocutor with surprise. Simba _was_ an obstacle. His birth _did_ change everything. It _did_ make a difference… Didn't it?

-"_Tell me, do you even like that cub? He's the son of your hated brother and the lioness that never became your mate though you wanted her very much, so how can you have any feelings for him at all? Stop lying to yourself. And besides, do you think that he'll be any different than his ancestors when he grows up? Than his father? Than your father?_"

Scar felt something break inside him. There was nothing more to hold him back. He felt the old zeal fill his heart once more. He wanted to see blood.

-"No. He will not." – he said firmly.

-"_Well what's the problem then?_" – the shadow shouted back at him. – "_Kill Simba, Scar. Kill him and then kill Mufasa! Fulfill your destiny and become the rightful king of Pride Rock! Start a new line of rulers, a new, strong dynasty in the history of this land! You know you want to do that! And don't fool yourself with arguments about your lesser physical attributes. You know you do not need them to overcome your enemies! You have your army of hyenas! Moreover, you have your brilliant mind, so stop hesitating and use it well! I am counting on you._"

Scar felt content in his heart. At last, he regained his confidence. He was now imagining countless scenarios of his brother dying, mauled by hyenas, chocked to death with his own paw on his throat… And a small, goldish lion cub, screaming desperately as he tried to escape his inevitable end. An end for them, and a long expected triumph for King Scar.

The same childish voice woke him up from his vision. The evil spirit was gone, everything was real and vivid again. Most of all, he vividly felt a piercing pain in his injured tail, as Simba clumsily tripped over it in his prancing. The lion growled, involuntarily flipping his tail forcefully, accidentally slapping his nephew right in the face.

-"_WWAAAH!_" – cried the cub, sobbing so loudly that Scar sat up in shock. Looking at Simba for a while, he considered how incredibly miserable the cub looked right now.

You brat, you simply have no idea how much more to cry about are you going to have when I'm through with you – he said to himself. But as he saw Simba slowly wiping the tears from his eyes, his anger faded away. His rage disappeared, but there was no more friendship anymore. No more compassion. There was nothing.

-"Oh I'm so sorry!" – he yelped – "Can you ever forgive me, Simba? I must have dozed off for a moment, I didn't even realize that you were still here! I hope I didn't hurt you…" – he surrounded his nephew with a paw and smiled. – "There, just like nothing happened! You know it's not good for a lion to cry. But don't worry- I promise I won't tell anything to anyone! As I said, just like nothing happened!"

Simba calmed down a bit, but still he had to sniff from time to time.

-"I'm sorry… uncle Scar! I didn't mean to… wake you up! I just get bored from time to time and then I come over to you because you aren't as… busy as mom and dad are. I really didn't mean to disturb you! I promises it won't happen again!"

The little idiot thinks that I punished him for some reason – Scar thought. – Well maybe it's better that way. If Mufasa could teach him a little more about the difficulties of life, maybe there would still be a chance for him. But how could _he_ know anything about the difficulties of life? _Puh_, hopeless bastards… The worse for them.

-"Aw, that's alright, Simba." – the fake smile was still present on his face. – "I'm not mad at you at all."

He looked into his nephew's eyes as his face was slowly cheering up. He thought that there was nothing that could keep him from strangling the cub right here and now. But no, it wasn't the right time yet. And besides, killing him personally would simply be too… unprofessional.

-"Alright, little prince. Talking to you was a real ball, but you see, uncle is kind of tired right now. And besides, I suppose your parents are wondering about where could their precious little child be at this time."

-"No sweat, uncle Scar! Mom and dad know that I can handle myself." – said the cub, adopting a proud smile.

-"Are you quite sure of that, Simba? No matter. I think we've spent enough time together for one day. Run along now and find someone else to… have fun with."

He wanted to say 'someone else to bother', but he considered that he better keep all the externals for as long as possible.

With a mutual smile and a friendly hug, Simba told his uncle farewell. When the cub finally left to Scar's greatest relief, he could lay down on the ground, scratching the sand with a claw, meditating over the world-to-come where he would be king, with no Mufasa and no Simba.

But first, plans needed to be made. And blood needed to be spilled.

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**AN: "Be sober. Be vigilant. Because your adversary, the devil, as a roaring lion walketh about seeking whom he may devour." (1 P 5, 8)**


End file.
